Lover's Fate
by The Wandering Ryu
Summary: Very A/U centered around T/P with bits of G/V and G/B. When the greatest evil manifests itself inside the body of a young man, the world is brought to it's knees. The only hope for survival rests in the hands of an unsuspecting warrior. So begins the e
1. Prologue - The Child From Space

I know I posted this once already, but let me explain. My account, along with my fic and all of my reviews was deleted (stupid reason that we don't need to get into here). So that means I had to repost this (or else I normally wouldn't repost the same chapter twice). Besides, I had a lot of errors to fix. I would appreciate it if all of you would re-review this chapter. Thanx.  
  
TITLE: Prologue - The Child From Space  
DEDICATION: To the two people who inspired me to write this fic (and kill my chem teacher...*smiles innocently*), SiN and Child of the Fireflies  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except my computer and my clothes. The only thing I may own are the people I make up. I make nothing off this stuff.   
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Anything and everything I have to say will be said here (if it concerns the fic). For now, this is only the prologue. There will be more. The beginning is a bit slow, I'll admit. I accept all constructive critism. Another thing, Trunks and Pan are of the same age (this is set in an alternate universe remember?) and it occurs during the ancient times. There are no Saiyans, everyone is human. On with the fic. WARNING...this is VERY VERY A/U and different than any other fic. If you don't like different plots and original plots, don't read.  
  
  
  
  
  
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"Time does not exist. Past, present and future are all the same. To the strongest of minds, time is merely another hurtle that can be overcome."  
  
- Unknown -  
  
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For thousands of years, the greatest evil known to any living creature terrorized the Earth. Eventually, it was defeated by the gods and confined in a shell-like structure. Unsure of what to do with it, the gods decided to give it some time in hopes that it would repent from it's evil ways. In thinking so, they sent it to outerspace confined in a meteor.  
  
With nothing better to do with it's time, the evil twisted and turned, trying to regain some kind of a human form in which to use. Afterall, it could do nothing without a physical form. It had lost it's form during it's battle with the gods. Now, 200 years later, it finally had a form. True, the form was weak and helpless for now, but it would eventually grow. All that the new form, an infant child, was good for at the moment, was living in. When the time came, the evil would break out and control the body it had created. Than, nobody, not even the gods would be able to stop it.  
  
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A meteor sped through the Earth's atmosphere, chunks flying off in all direction as it did so. It seemed unstoppable as it continued to surge forward, not caring what lay in it's path, destroying whatever came near it.  
  
To the inhabitants of Earth, it looked like a shooting star, crashing down in the middle of the night, to become one of them forever. The meteor, now no larger than a boulder, crashed with a tremendous bang, leaving an enourmous dent in the Earth near a small fishing village.  
  
The men of the village who had already seen the "shooting star", went to investigate. Dressed in there regular, grubby, dirty, torn clothes, they inched forward as a group. Each man was more scared than the next. Only the sound of footsteps, chattering teeth and heavy breathing penetrated the complete silence of the night. Inch by inch, step by step, they neared the "fallen star". The tension continued to grow as they got closer and closer to the mysterious object.  
  
A baby's wail broke the the silence making everyone jump back a few feet. The men looked at each other, all feeling embarrassed. To get over the odd moment, they all laughed at each other, making fun of the people around them for being scared of a mere child. Again, the little group moved closer towards the wailing cry of the baby, a sense of heavy tension still lingering in the air.   
  
A few steps further and the object could be seen. A craddle-like shell held an infant child who wailed his cries to the rest of the world. The men looked at each other, utter and complete fear showing through their eyes. They pushed each other forward, willing someone to pick up the child. They couldn't just leave him there. If anyone heard of such a cowardly act, their village would be mocked and hated forever.  
  
After much pushing and shoving, a man in his mid-thirties, stood out from the rest of the group. Shaking down to his very boots, he walked over to the child and picked it up. Almost immediately, the wailing stopped and the child began to gurgle happily in baby language, or so they thought. The man held the boy, that's what it was, a little, infant, boy, as far away from himself as possible. It wasn't because the child was naked, he was wrapped in a white bundle, it was because he would not hold just ANY child against himself. Who knew what this thing was? Perhaps this thing wasn't even really an infant. Perhaps it was an evil monster taking the shape of an infant so it could destroy their village. The man shuddered at the thought.  
  
Arriving back much quicker than when they had left, they strided through the village, infant child in hand. The woman began to come out of hiding, suspicion written all over their faces. Were these people really their husbands, fathers, brothers or sons? Or had some monsters taken over their bodies? Cautiously, they made their way over to the small group of men who stood proudly, as if they had completed some near impossible mission.  
  
Once everyone was gathered, an exaggerated tale was told of how they had found the child. It included fending off a legion of monsters and destroying a beast ten times larger than them and finally ended with finding the child in an underground cave, buried alive in a trunk. Every man swore that the story was true and as difficult as it was to believe, no one dared to argue.  
  
The people of the village were very superstitious and the account of the incident from the men didn't make matters better. What business did these monsters have with this child? Perhaps it was their born leader and burying it was their way of protecting it. Everyone talked about everything and anything, except one topic: what were they going to do with the child? Finally, the man who had picked up the child asked the dreaded question.  
  
"Well, what are we going to do with this thing?"  
  
Utter and total chaos broke out among the villagers.   
  
"Kill it."  
  
"Bring him back to where you found it."  
  
"Burn it."  
  
"Drown it."  
  
The infant, which had fallen asleep, woke up at the sound of frightened yet loud voices. However, instead of crying as most babies do, he opened his eyes and gurgled happily at them, bringing a deafening silence to the group.   
  
A few screams erupted as some of the elders fainted. Everyone panicked and began running over or into each other as they ran off to hide in the safety of their own homes.   
  
Once the dust settled, all that remained was the man who had picked up the "thing" and the "thing" itself. The man sighed. He could not imagine killing anything, unless it was a monster. There had been no monsters with it when they had found him. He had not been buried in a trunk. None of that was true. He had no reason to kill this child. He could not do it.  
  
Knowing that his wife would probably hate him forever, he picked up the child and began to walk home. People stared oddly at him as he walked past them, all backing away from him or running off in fear. He shook his head. They were his friends, his family, the only people he had ever known, but they really needed to work on their suspicious ways. This was only a child for God's sake.  
  
Arriving at his door, he sighed and gently pushed it open. His wife stood in front of him, hands on hips, face contorted between anger and fear. "Tom? That isn't what I think it is, is it?"  
  
The man, Tom, stepped into the house. "Honey, you see..."  
  
"Don't even come one more step into my house with that thing."  
  
"It's a child for crying out loud people! Are you all really that blind?"  
  
"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" His wife had always been the controller of the relationship between them, even before they had gotten married. People laughed at him a lot for that, but he didn't care as long as he knew she loved him.  
  
"But Mary..."  
  
"Don't but me. Get out of the house and don't return until that child is....gone!"  
  
Tom's mouth dropped open. His own wife was like the rest of them, a narrow minded person who based everything on suspicions. When had this begun? He shook his head and walked out, the child held protectively in his arms. He planned never to return to this village again. He couldn't believe that he was leaving the village, the only place he had ever called home.  
  
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Tom watched the boy work. It was because of that one boy that he had lost everything. His wife, his home, his life. Everything. Gone. All because of one decision that he made seven years ago (ahem, for those of you who didn't figure it out from that statement, this is seven years later). He didn't regret it and he certainly didn't blame the boy, but he couldn't help but be mean to the little child. How could you not be mean to someone who had made you lose everything you had ever known?   
  
The boy looked up at him as he sighed. "Damn boy. Scrub those floors until their spotless, you hear?" He was cruel and mean to the boy, but he really did love him. He just couldn't show it. In fact, it seemed as if he didn't need to show it.   
  
No matter what Tom said or did, the boy never seemed to get mad. He would only go away for awhile to let Tom cool off and than return later, never expecting an apology. The boy was silent, never asking many questions and when he did ask a question, it was always deep and profound.  
  
Tom had never given him a name, never saw the need to give him a name. He responded to "boy" and didn't seem to mind. Tom had told the boy the entire truth, not wanting to hide anything from him. Unlike most children, the boy wasn't devasted. He just took it in and gulped it down, never bringing it up again. Why was the boy so quiet? Why couldn't he just talk back? It frustrated Tom that the boy was so good because everyone expected him to be so evil.  
  
He felt sick at the way his people had reacted towards a perfectly innocent boy, one who was so quiet and good no less. He couldn't take it anymore. Violently he lashed out at the bucket of water the boy was using, knocking it over and spilling it's contents all over the room.  
  
The boy looked up with emotionless eyes and did what he normally did at times like this. He left. Without a backwards glance, he edged closer to the village. He knew he stood out from the rest of the people there. They all had black hair and brown eyes while he had lavender hair and blue eyes, but he didn't care. They all seemed so interesting.  
  
It was about a ten minute walk to the little village, but the boy didn't mind. He had accidentally stumbled upon it when he was much younger and was glad that he had found it. He asked Tom about it once and Tom had exploded at him in anger. Since then, the boy had never asked again.  
  
The boy inched his way closer to the village, hoping he wouldn't be spotted. He didn't like being spotted. The people usually weren't very nice to him even though he had never done anything to even alarm them. He watched in awe as the people continued to bustle around, making sure to keep busy and not waste a single moment. A group of little boys spotted him and ran out to meet him, rocks and sticks in hands.  
  
One boy, obviously the leader, stood out. "Look boys, it's little Trunks."  
  
The boy could only stare at them hoping they wouldn't do what they usually did when they saw him. The name they had given him was because he was supposedly found in some trunk or something. He still couldn't understand it all. To him, it was all mumble jumble.  
  
'Trunks', as they called him, began to twitch nervously on the spot.  
  
"We give you five seconds Trunks."  
  
Trunks had no need to ask what that meant. He already knew. Taking the precious time they gave him, he turned around and sprinted as fast as he could. A few seconds later, sticks and stones came flying at him, some striking him, others coming close. They followed him for a few minutes before hurling one last assult of flying rocks and stopping. The boy huffed and puffed hearing the laughter of the other retreating boys.  
  
What had he ever done to them to deserve such treatment?  
  
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"Humankinds worst enemy is destiny itself."  
  
- Unknown - 


	2. Chapter 1 - My Name Is...

TITLE: Chapter One - My Name Is...  
DEDICATION: To all the people who reviewed the last chapter (either for the first time or the second time). I managed to get all my reviews back. Thanks. Also to I Think You're Gay! for rebuilding the Flamer Empire.  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except my computer and my clothes. The only thing I may own are the people I make up. I make nothing off this stuff.   
AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter, you are introduced to some...new ki techniques and new uses for ki control.  
  
  
  
  
  
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"Live and let live."  
  
- Unknown -  
  
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Dust and sand swirled around like miniature tornadoes as the wind picked up, an obvious sign that a storm was in the works. The sound of waves crashing against the shore could be heard even from so far inland.   
  
A man, in his late teens, also known as 'the boy', searched the vicinity near his house trying to find herbs. True, the area was mostly sandy beach and a few trees, but every once in awhile, a few herbs could be found. Tom was very sick and it scared the young man. He had never been alone for long and the thought of having Tom leave him forever was scary. He knew nothing of the world or the type of people it held. All he knew was that they were mean and threw items at him. Everyone hated him.  
  
A surge of pain rushed through his body and he grabbed at the mark that, once in awhile, showed up on his forehead. He had no idea why it was there or why it sometimes disappeared, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that it hurt like hell.  
  
He dropped the bag of herbs scattering some all over the place and fell to his knees, growling in agony. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to fight the pain, trying to suppress whatever was trying to rise out of him. His breaths came in short little gasps and little beads of sweat began to form on his face. As quickly as it had come, it was gone. The searing pain vanished. The young man sat down for awhile, trying to regulate his breathing and get his heart rate to slow down.  
  
That had hurt more than any time before. He shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs. Whatever it was, it would have to wait. He had to help Tom first. That was top priority.   
  
Getting up shakily, the young man stuffed the fallen herbs back into his bag and looked up at the darkening sky. He had to hurry or he was going to be rained on. Shouldering the bag, he began his short run home, trying to make it before the rain started.  
  
As soon as he made inside, rain began to pelt down unrelentlessly, making loud pattering sounds on the roof of the little house. He looked out of the window near the door and smiled a brilliant smile, glad that he wasn't out there at the moment.  
  
"Boy?"  
  
He heard Tom calling him from one of the two bedrooms and hurried to see what he needed. "Yes Tom?"  
  
"Could you get me a glass of water?"   
  
The young man faught the fear rising in his voice. Tom had never been polite before. He had always demanded, not asked. Add to that the fact that Tom seemed weaker and his voice was raspier, and it scared the young man even more.  
  
He poured a glass of water from a nearby table and walked back towards Tom's bed, helping the older man sit up.   
  
"Here you go." Gently, he tilted the cup to allow Tom to drink. True, Tom had always been harsh with him, but the young man knew he was loved and he loved Tom back. He loved Tom as any person would a father or father figure. The young man watched as Tom slowly drank the water. Abruptly Tom pulled back.  
  
"Enough boy." His voice was still raspy and scratchy. A look of pure pain came over Tom's face. "Listen up. I don't have much time."  
  
"No! Don't say that Tom! You will live with me forever!"  
  
A single tear ran slowly and silently down the young man's smooth face as he shut his eyes tightly, fighting back the flood that threatened and demanded to be released. He had never cried before so it was a very strange, new sensation. He wasn't sure yet whether he liked it or not.  
  
"Shut up and listen boy. Don't believe what other people say about you." The sentence came out in short, sharp gasps as Tom faught for breath. "Follow your heart and make your dreams come true. You were always...the son...I never...had..."  
  
"NOOOOOOOO!"   
  
He didn't need to check, didn't need to make sure. He wasn't sure how he had done it, but he had sensed Tom slowly lose his grip on life and pass into the world of the dead. He felt empty, hopeless, alone. He knew nothing, had no one, had no purpose left. He buried his face in Tom's blankets and weeped like a child. He knew it was disgraceful, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing.  
  
Outside, the storm raged on, lightning and thunder illuminating the darkening sky. The wind continued to howl it's rage, whipping aginst the wooden house, drowning out the sobs of the young man.  
  
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The transition from day to night was almost unnoticable as the storm continued to show why nature was one of the strongest forces on Earth. Still, a lone figure kneeled in the rain, daring the storm to strike him harder.  
  
Water streamed down the young man's face as he continued to mourn the loss of the only friend, only family he had ever known. His hands, bloody from digging up a grave, rested on his knees. He didn't care that he was bleeding or that he was being soaked to the skin. None of that mattered. In fact, he was so depressed that he didn't notice two figures flying towards him at a quick rate.  
  
A dark haired, dark eyed girl chased unrelentlessly after her foe. She had been trailing it for two weeks and was not about to give. She almost had it now and she knew it. No storm could save the beast now. Letting her ki flow through to her sword, she flung the sword at the creature, trying to distract it enough to catch up to it.   
  
Since her ki was part of the sword, she could control it without actually holding it. Making the creature dodge and weave bought her a few seconds of precious time. Not wasting any, she built up a large ki ball, not one of destruction, but one of capture. She released the ki ball and watched it engulf the creature in a large bubble. Pulling with all her strength, the dark haired girl forced the creature towards herself while reducing the size of the bubble it was in and, consequently, the creatures size as well. Once the bubble and the creature were reduced to a little ball, she quickly stuck it in a small, magical bottle. Quickly, she fit the stopper on top of it and flashed a quick smile.  
  
She raised her head slightly, in a sign of defiance. She had kept up the chase and captured the beast. She shook her head slightly, trying to shake the rain water from her eyes while still feeling the surge of triumph flow through her body. All those sleepless nights hadn't been wasted afterall.  
  
Out of the corner of her left eye, she spotted a slouched over figure. She knew she should get out of the rain and get some rest, but her curiosity got the best of her. Walking boldly forward, sword in hand, she approached the lone figure.   
  
Trained questions rushed through her mind. Who was this person or thing? What was it doing out in the middle of nowhere during the middle of a stormy night? She gripped her sword a bit tighter, just in case. She blinked furiously as she tried to see past the droplets on her eyelashes.  
  
"Hey." No response from the figure. She didn't like being ignored. "Person over there. Are you okay?" She sensed the figure's ki and relaxed a bit. The person had a ki, which meant he or she wasn't an undead creature. She sheathed her sword in a sign of peace and approached the figure with much more confidence.  
  
A closer look at the figure and she could tell that it was a guy. He seemed to be sort of out of it. She was literally beside him and he still hadn't moved a muscle. She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Either he was dying, or in a very deep trance. Gently, not wanting to startle him, she placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Anyone home in there?"  
  
The young man's eyes popped open and he looked up at her in fear and shock. Immediately he began to move away as quickly as possible. The shocked expression that had been on the girls face was quickly replaced by one of anger. How dare this guy be like this? She had tried to help him and here he was scrambling away from her? She ran up to him and placed a firm grip on his shoulder, not allowing him to go anywhere.  
  
"Listen, I won't hurt you okay?" She tried to sound as soothing as possible while angry at the same time. Her words did little to calm the frantic young man so she tried a smile instead. "My name is Pan. What's your's?"  
  
The young man stared at her suspiciously for a few seconds before replying. "I have no name." He bowed his head in shame.  
  
"Oh." Pan was unsure of what to do. She had never been in a situation like this before. As she thought of words to say to the lavender haired man, her smile faltered. "I'm sure you must have some kind of name. Anything at all?"  
  
The man's face fell even more. "Tom called me boy. That was it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"And some other people called me Trunks."  
  
Pan brightened at the new name. "Trunks? Great, then we'll call you Trunks from now on."  
  
Trunks winced at his new name but didn't say anything. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her once more. Finally, deciding that she wasn't like the people of the village and wouldn't hurt him, he got onto his feet.  
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so inconsiderate. We should get out of the rain. Follow me, my house isn't far from here." He was still upset about Tom's death, but he understood that life moved on. Besides, he wouldn't let a lady catch a cold because he was too busy feeling sorry for himself.  
  
A few minutes of running brought them to Trunks's house. "It's not much, but it's my house and it'll keep us dry for now."  
  
Half an hour later, and much drier than they had been before, the two sat sipping tea at the small kitchen table. It was akward, being in the house of a total stranger, but Pan didn't really mind. Trunks seemed like a very nice young man and he was cute too. She almost slapped herself for thinking such thoughts. She had duties to fulfill and romance wasn't one of those duties.  
  
"So, do you live here alone?"   
  
"No. Well...yes. Tom use to live here too, but he died."  
  
Pan was struck by Trunks's innocense and his bluntness. "I'm sorry to hear that."  
  
Trunks looked up from his cup of coffee. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."  
  
Pan quickly blinked back the shock again. No one had ever said anything like that. At first, she was angry. The nerve of this guy. She tried to be considerate and he dared to say something like that? Before snapping at him though, she thought more carefully about it. He was right. Why was she saying sorry? It wasn't like she had killed this Tom guy or anything.  
  
"Lighten up Trunks." A sudden idea rushed to her mind. If Tom had been the only one living with him and Tom was now dead, than Trunks was living alone. "Hey, what are you going to do now?"  
  
He looked away. "I'm not sure yet." He began to bite his lower lip in frustration.  
  
"Well, if you don't have anything better to do, why don't you come with me? I'm on my way back to see my sensei."  
  
A look of hope shone in Trunks's sad eyes. "I can go with you? Where are you going? What's a sensei?"  
  
"You can come with me if you want. I'm returning to Rotak mountain where my sensei or teacher is."  
  
"I'd love to accompany you." He didn't care what he would do once they got there. All he cared was that now he had somewhere to go, something to do.  
  
Throughout the night, the storm continued to rage, but neither Trunks or Pan cared. They knew that with the new day, would come new dreams, new hope and new opportunities.  
  
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Trunks woke up to the sound of birds chirping and a clear sky. The storm seemed to have wiped away everything for him, giving him a second chance at life. He stretched his tired limbs, trying to bring back the regular circulation. Feeling very refreshed, he stepped out of his room and found a ready to go Pan.  
  
"Wow, you must have gotten up very early."  
  
She smiled at his comment. "Actually, I haven't been up that long. Besides, it's part of my training."  
  
"Oh. Are you ready to go?"  
  
"You don't eat breakfast either?"  
  
He smiled. "No. It's too early."  
  
As the two set out, Pan explained that she needed to make a little stop in a nearby village. Trunks's heartbeat almost stopped but he convinced himself that it must be some other village. There were many villages around here...right?  
  
His heart sank as Pan began walking down the road towards the little village full of "mean people". As they neared the village, he decided it was best to keep quiet. Tilting his head downwards as far as he could, he continued to follow Pan hoping that no one would notice him. No such luck. The minute he entered the village, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared. He cringed at their glares, sensing the hatred that bore right through him.  
  
Pan sensed the tension in the air but choose to ignore it. She would ask Trunks about it later. Plastering a sweet smile on her face, she approached the man closest to her. He backed away from her as if she had some kind of contagious disease. The tension in the air only grew as Pan stared in bewilderment at everyone.  
  
Without warning, all hell broke loose. The villagers all seemed to pounce at once, catching both Trunks and Pan by surprise. Not wanting to hurt anyone, Pan allowed herself to be held captive. She almost laughed at the flimsy, wooden cage they put her and Trunks in. Trunks however, looked petrified. True, the people of the village had never treated him nicely and had in fact beaten him countless times, but never had he seen them so angry or hyped up.  
  
The villagers pranced around the little cage, muttering darkly about things they would like to do to him. One of the older men stepped closer to the cage and raised his arms for silence. Almost immediately, everyone shut up.  
  
The man glared at Trunks as he began to speak. "For many years now, our village has lived in peace. Yet this evil monster continues to stalk us, waiting for the right moment to strike. Now this monster has a follower. We must destroy it before its numbers grow any larger. We must destroy it for the safety of our village!" A loud cheer erupted from the villagers. "We shall kill it slowly as a tribute to the gods! Make it feel the pain!"  
  
Another loud cheer erupted shaking the very establishments themselves. Some of the men began to pick up long poles and advanced towards the cage. Evil smirks began to spread onto the lips of many villagers.   
  
Their torture began with a few pokes at Trunks. Then they began to poke at Pan as well. Pan faught hard to keep in control of her temper. She knew she could kill these idiots without another thought, but that was wrong and she refused to do it.   
  
Trunks backed up as far away from the bars as he could go, trying to get away from all the poking. He wanted to tell them that he wasn't evil, that they were wrong but he knew better than that. They would only say he was lying and beat him even more. Years of experience had thought him that much.  
  
Within a few minutes, the people began to grow bored of merely poking. A few of the pokers began to swing their poles a bit and in no time at all, they were downright beating Trunks and Pan.  
  
Trunks took a kick peek at Pan who was now back to back with him. She didn't look too pleased and he felt bad. It was because of him that she was in this situation. Quickly, not really sure of what he was doing, he pushed her down as the poles began to wack harder on the pair of them.  
  
Pan lay stunned underneath Trunks for a moment, surprised that Trunks had knocked her over. What was he trying to do anyway? She blinked a couple of times, slapping herself mentally as she heard the sticks wacking down on Trunks's back and his sudden jerks of pain as they came down on him. He was shielding her with his own body.  
  
Anger began to rush through her veins. These people were insane! They hadn't even tried to ask questions. Whatever Trunks had done, it probably wasn't that bad since these people seemed to be senseless. What kind of people took actions first and asked questions later?  
  
She let her ki grow, knocking Trunks completely off her while standing up all in one motion. Glaring at the villagers who were now all slowly backing away, she used her ki to bend the wooden outline of the cage without touching it.  
  
Everyones eyes began to pop open. This girl was either a monster disguised as a girl or someone very powerful. The villagers didn't like the thought of either of those.  
  
"MONSTER!"  
  
With that yell, everything happened quickly. The women and children began screaming and running in all directons while the men picked up whatever they could and threw it at Pan. Pan only smiled and stepped in front of Trunks as her ki shield deflected everything away.  
  
She raised her hands, forming small ki balls and began to randomly fire at the houses and other buildings nearby. As much as she hated destruction, these people needed to learn a lesson and she was going to be the one to teach it to them.  
  
Screams of rage and fear tore through the dark night as people tried to put out the fires that began to spread. Pan pointed her hand at another house, planning on destroying all the buildings. She felt someone trying to approach her and quickly turned her head to see who it was.  
  
Her eyebrows narrowed in curiosity as she saw that it was Trunks. Dropping her ki shield so that he could approach her, she asked, "You want to say something Trunks?"  
  
"Please Pan, don't hurt them. Don't do anymore damage. Please?" His blue eyes shone with sadness and remorse. They asked and pleaded her to stop.  
  
She wanted to question him, wanted to know why not, but instead, she let her hands fall and walked out of the village without another word. Trunks quickly followed. Once past the village gate, he took one look back, not knowing when he would see the village again. True, the people had never been nice to him, but he had envied the friendship that they all shared with each other.  
  
Silently, following Pan, he murmured, "Goodbye...everyone."  
  
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"Forgiving others is the first step to peace and respectability."  
  
- Unknown - 


	3. Chapter 2 - A Journey Home

TITLE: Chapter Two - A Journey Home  
DEDICATION: To Sky Dragon (a.k.a Archaic Tears) for being the great (and insane) person that you are.  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except my computer and my clothes. The only thing I may own are the people I make up. I make nothing off this stuff.   
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I changed the summary (doubt anyone noticied). I figured this one sounded better than the last one. My apologies to anyone who has been trying to keep up with this fic. Many things have prevented me from working on it, but now, this chapter is finally here. Enjoy and as always, let me know what you think.  
  
  
  
  
  
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"It's not what you have in your life,  
but who you have in your life that counts."  
  
=====  
  
Pan continued to walk on, lost in the beauty of the early evening. She loved the way the colors in the sky integrated amongst themselves, creating a sea of fire to herald the coming of the wondrous night. The sound of waves crashing gently against the shore could still be heard as she slowly made her way further inland. The wind rushed through the leaves of the few trees that were there adding to the peaceful atmosphere. She took a deep breath and smiled, loving every minute of her journey. A hesitant voice brought her back to reality and she turned angrily in the direction of the voice.  
  
Her aggravation was obvious as she snapped at her companion. "Well, what do you want?"   
  
Trunks flinched at her outburst. He didn't want to bother her, didn't want to annoy her or make her hate him. After all, she was the one giving him a chance at a better life than the one he had always known. His life, before she had arrived, had been filled with anger and hate directed at him by the villagers. He prayed with all his heart that she would not be angered by his request.  
  
"Can...can we take a break? Please? I'm kind of tired."   
  
Saying that he was tired was more of an understatement than anything else was. He was exhausted both mentally and physically. Pan had not stopped walking all night, not even for a short break. She had kept walking without speaking a single word to him ever since they had left the little village earlier that morning. He was hungry and still shocked from everything that had occurred to him in the last twenty-four hours. His mind was still coming to terms with the fact that Tom was now dead and would never come back. He still could not believe that the little village, which he had grown to love from afar, would most likely disappear from his life forever. To complicate matters further, he had not eaten anything all day and was terribly hungry.  
  
Pan heaved her shoulders in anger. She was not angry with his request. She was angry with her inability to understand him and see things from his perspective. Why the hell would he not let her kill those villagers? They were cruel and didn't deserve his sympathy. They did not deserve to live. Why would anyone want to spare heartless, cruel people like them?  
  
"Fine! We'll rest at the next town we come to."  
  
Pan continued on and could do little to resist the smile that began to creep over her face as she heard Trunks sigh in relief. Everything about him was so damn cute that she could not remain mad at him for long.   
  
=====  
  
Nightfall had descended and the stars were twinkling above them as Trunks and Pan finally reached a nearby town. Trunks staggered in, almost ready to collapse right on the spot. Pan, on the other hand, looked tense as her eyes flashed in every direction. Something was not right. The place was too silent.  
  
Taking a cautious step forward, she strained to see every inch of the small village. Every door and window was shut, almost as if forcefully held closed. Not a single sound could be heard, not even a dog bark or the shrill cry of an infant. She took another step forward, one hand wrapped around the handle of her sword, ready to draw at any moment.  
  
Finally, Trunks seemed to notice as well.   
  
"Wow. This place is pretty silent. Is it always like this Pan?"  
  
Trunks turned around to look at his new friend only to find her extremely tense, eyes flashing this way and that. Cautiously backing up, he made his way to Pan's side. He could tell there was lurking danger, but he was not sure to what extent. He could not help but feel a bit defenseless. He had no weapon to defend himself with although he was not sure how he would defend himself even if he did have a weapon.  
  
A cackling laughter rung through the night air as Trunks jumped back, heart beating in agonizing horror. His face was a mask of fear as his head twirled this way and that. Pan on the other hand, remained calm and cool, waiting for whoever or whatever it was to come out. Eyes closed, sword ready to be drawn at any moment, she stood still as a statue.  
  
Suddenly, a scream of fear erupted from a nearby house. Trunks was paralyzed with fear and could do nothing more than stare in open-mouthed horror but Pan immediately moved in the direction of the scream. Bursting through the door of the house that the scream had come from, the sight that greeted her would have made any normal person's stomach churn. There, in the middle of the house stood a one-eyed demon, claws ready to rip into a poor young man. The young man whimpered in terror as the demon loomed over him.  
  
With the bursting down of the door, both young man and demon turned their heads to look at the new arrival. A smile of joy spread it's way over the demon's face as it looked at its next victim.  
  
"Ah. I love it when my victims come to me. Saves me the hassle of having to find them."  
  
Pan scrunched her face up in disgust. "I will not allow you to harm any more humans."  
  
With that, she unsheathed her sword and flung herself at the demon all in one motion. The demon jumped out of the only window in the house, realizing that it could not fight well in such a confined area. Pan took one short glance at the young man and gave him a reassuring smile before following after the demon.  
  
Landing squarely on her two feet, her right hand clutched tightly to her sword, Pan kept a weary eye on the demon for any signs of movement. Instead, the demon stood motionless, head down. Standing her ground, she patiently waited.   
  
Without warning, the demon turned around and blasted a large ki ball in her direction. Barely making it out of the way in time, the look of pure shock on her face made the demon laugh.  
  
"Prepared to die yet?"  
  
Without answering the question, Pan let her ki flow through her sword as she and the sword became one. Flying towards the demon, she swung her sword forcefully downwards only to have it clash against the demons own, blood red sword.  
  
Pan immediately recognized the sword. Only demons with a decent ki level could produce such a sword. From what she had learned, such swords were made from the blood of the innocent victims who fell to the demon itself. The more victims that fell to it, the redder the sword would be. The redder the sword was, the stronger the demon, presumably was.  
  
Her sword flashed instinctively, almost with it's own mind as the demon swung at her. Backing up at the first opportunity she had, she made a quick assessment of her situation, a simple plan on the tip of her mind. Attacking the demon with the sword in her right hand, she began to build a small ki ball in her left hand. Their swords clashed again as the demon snickered at her.  
  
"Think you can beat me do you you worthless human?"  
  
Ignoring the demon once more, Pan drew away from it. Closing her eyes for an instant, she forced the mini ki ball onto her sword. Taking one forceful step towards the demon, both hands on the handle of her sword, she made a circular movement with her arms before letting the energy in the sword fly towards the demon.  
  
A look of terror crossed over the demon's face as it screamed in anger. A few seconds later, it's body crumpled to the ground in ashes while it's sword also disintegrated into nothingness. Pan waited, knowing exactly what to expect. Trying to escape without notice, a small red glow rushed across the ground.  
  
Taking out her bottle, Pan used her ki to capture the little glow into it. Smiling to herself once more, she put the stopper onto the bottle, content that she had captured one more demon's soul.  
  
"Never underestimate your enemies."  
  
Trunks, no longer paralyzed in fear, came rushing to her side, eyes wide in surprise. All traces of fatigue seemed to have disappeared or were at least forgotten for the minute.  
  
"Wow Pan! That was amazing! How did you do all of that cool stuff?"  
  
"If you want, I can teach you."  
  
"Really?"  
  
The conversation was cut short as the occupants of the town began to come out of their houses and hiding spots. The villagers seemed relieved yet scared at the same time. Inching forward, they all eyed the two new arrivals wearily. Were they friend or foe?  
  
Flashing an innocent smile at the villagers, Pan sheathed her sword across the strap on her back and extended a hand of welcome to the man nearest her.  
  
"Hello. I'm Pan and this is my friend Trunks. We happened to pass by your little village and were wondering if we could rest here for the night if it is not too large a burden."  
  
A look of suspicion shone in the man's face as he stared at her hand, not quite sure what to do. In his lifetime, he had seen demons kill each other to take possession of villages and he was not sure if this was another one of those times. Suddenly, the young man who had been attacked was brought out of the house, howling in pain. Everyone turned their attention to him, many looking away at the sight.  
  
The poor man's skin was peeling off as acidic looking juices crawled over his skin. Chunks of his skin fell even as he was carried over to the two strangers on a stretcher. Cursing the gods and his own life, the young man's tear streaked face began to peel off, revealing veins and muscles as blood mixed with tears.  
  
Trunks clutched at his stomach, finding it difficult to stand firm as the world spun in continuous circles. The sight, along with the pained cries of this fellow human being, made him feel like fainting. Never in his life had he seen anything so atrocious.  
  
Pan was unaffected as she watched them carry the young man towards her. She had been trained for situations like this and had already encountered them countless times. Walking towards the little procession, she kneeled down and gave the young man another reassuring smile. Then, closing her eyes, she placed her right hand slightly above his head, whispered a few hushed words and let a greenish ki-like light radiate from her hands, over his body.  
  
Almost immediately, the acidic liquids began to vanish without a trail. Slowly, the young man's crying subsided and the scars disappeared. Looking gratefully at his savior, he could do no more then mutter a quiet thank you before falling into unconsciousness, the pain he had endured finally consuming his body and mind.  
  
Unsure of how else to show their gratitude, the villagers treated Trunks and Pan as if they were royalties for the following two days. As the sun rose on the third day, the two friends could be seen leaving the village, heading out to face the world and more adventures than even they were aware of.  
  
=====  
  
The next few days passed uneventfully as Trunks and Pan neared Rotak mountain. When they weren't traveling, Pan was teaching Trunks how to control his ki and how to hold a sword properly. After a full week's travel, not only could Trunks hold his sword properly and create a ki shield, but also they had arrived at the base of the path that would lead them to Pan's house.  
  
Turning to face Trunks, she gazed into his wonder-filled eyes. She could tell what he was thinking just by watching the way he fidgeted on the spot. He was wondering how they would ever make it to up the long, cereous path.  
  
"It's not that bad. Trust me."  
  
He looked at her and nodded, nothing but honest trust written all over his features.  
  
"Let's go then. I'd like to meet this sensei you've been speaking so much of."  
  
It was a long and tiring climb for Trunks as he trudged doggedly after Pan who seemed to find the climb nothing more than a stroll. Knees trembling in pain, sweat dripping down his face, the hot sun did little to ease his exhaustion.  
  
Seeing Pan stop, he walked up to her and stopped as well, chest heaving as he tried to suck in as much air as he could. Following her peaceful gaze, he looked around at his new surroundings and had what little breath he had, knocked out of him.  
  
The place was beautiful, a heaven on earth. A little house stood on the middle of the plateau surrounded by flowers of all types. The house, though made of wood and very small, appeared to be stronger than any brick or concrete house could be. A few exotic trees with pink leaves stood in the large yard creating a calm and tranquil sight. Fallen leaves were scattered over the entire plateau, creating a sea of pink.   
  
As Pan wandered off to find her sensei, Trunks noticed a small pond to the left of the house. Approaching the pond, he admired how the sunlight danced off the surface, creating a dream-like image. Peering down, he smiled at the many little fishes that swam hurriedly by. He wondered how it would feel to sit by the pond and simply relax.   
  
Feeling someone behind him, he turned around excitedly only to feel his blood freeze over. A man, no older then fifty held a sword mere inches from his throat. Closing his eyes, Trunks felt no regrets as he prepared to die. He had not accomplished much, but he had also never hurt anyone. The good were rewarded, the evil perished. He hoped with all his heart, that this statement was true.  
  
He felt the sword move away from his throat and waited for the deathblow.  
  
=====  
  
- "Always prepare for the worst. That way, when the worst does happen, you will never be surprised."  
  
Unknown 


End file.
